


War of Rights

by howlingstiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Claudia Stilinski, Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Empath Claudia Stilinski, Empath Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tags to be added, Warning: Kate Argent, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8529649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlingstiles/pseuds/howlingstiles
Summary: He grins and muses to himself, what if they were the ones to end everything Gerard sent their way?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TriscuitsandSoup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriscuitsandSoup/gifts), [Green](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/gifts), [mysourwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysourwolf/gifts).



> So this was inspired by something that now has nothing to do with this fic. Claudia is an Empath. Stiles is a mix of an Empath and the classic Spark trope. This will be slow to update.

When Stiles was three years old he experienced his first flow of emotions. It was the day his momma went to the doctors for a checkup to see if anything was wrong with her after forget to pick him up from daycare the thirtieth time. The news of, _No, everything is as it should be, Mrs. Stilinski,_ brought so much - _Joy Relief Gratitude_ \- from his family that he collapsed.  
  
He was able to wane off his parent's concerns and put it on being happy his momma was okay. That nothing was wrong with her. They bought the story when tears gathered on his lashes and twitching fingers gripped his cargo pants tight.  
  
Five-year-old Stiles had gotten better at handling these random surges of emotions. He looked up his symptoms one day when his parents weren’t looking and found _Empaths_ from sci-fi stories. When Mr. Jefferson passed away and his family came in, Stiles locked himself in the bathroom and sobbed for hours from continuous the - _Grief Pain Woe_ -. When his mom found him she did nothing but climb into the tub with him and hold him.  
  
After that, his mom, Talia, and Deaton sat him down and questioned him until Stiles quietly deemed Deaton, the Druid, untrustworthy and to never go to him even if it meant not bleeding out on the floor from a chopped off arm. Claudia covered her mouth to hide her smile when he said that to Deaton. Talia was in an in-between place, they avoided Stiles’ questions as to what Talia was if she was sitting with them. They thought he was too little to learn about that, Stiles wants to know when they think he’ll be able to learn since he can feel emotions at five-years-old. And be able to talk to the pixies in the forest with no hassle. _Not that they know that part._

* * *

Stiles was queasy all day at school. His chest was a pinging pinprick with every breath in and out. Every time he went near the senior classrooms he was hit with this nauseating feeling of misfortune coming to one of his classmates. He had to sit out gym class, Coach Finstock didn’t even complain when he saw the state Stiles was in, sweaty and paler than a sheet, and phoned his parents for him. It may just be the nicest thing Coach ever did for someone. Claudia nearly burst the door off its handle trying to get to Stiles, it got him to smile, temporarily distracted from his wayward feelings.  
  
Claudia grasped his hands and told that Stiles was special, that even she can’t do the things Stiles can do when they made it to the car. Even with all the training, they were doing, he’s been surpassing her for years. Stiles laughed when he told his mom he knew he wasn’t fully what she is and that he’s been able to do things other than feel emotions, and she flailed in mock anger. When asked how he knew gave a simple answer of ‘He’s a fifteen-year-old boy. And has access to a computer. _Do the math_ .’ Though Stiles doesn’t know if he likes it if this is something he’s always going to be dealing with.  
  
This happened once, around the time his music teacher, Ms. Fowler, was found dead in the creek with a broken neck and shredded skin. He was ten. When he told his mom this, she said to always be listening to his gut if something like this happens again and to find her or John.  
  
When Stiles asked with tears clinging to his lashes and a trembling lower lip if he was a monster, she calmed him down with a hand at his nape and the other wrapping around his waist. She told him it wasn’t his fault, how was he supposed to know what that meant? Now he’s been told to always be prepared for when something like this happens.  
  
As they are sitting there Stiles wonders why it’s so easy to manipulate someone with a sob story and a teary face.  
  
He wasn’t able to get close to finding out who was going to be in danger, but his parents told him he tried his best and to let them know if anything changes when they saw his sweat covered hair and ghastly, pale face. Trembling fingers squeezing his backpack straps to hide them. And knee bouncing away at a tune they can’t hear.  
  
By the time dinner came around, Stiles was huddled into his thick, crocheted blanket his babcia knitted for him six Christmases ago, to fight off the chill gnawing into his bones. Claudia was slowly but surely having increasing headaches that she hide well from his dad. They shared a glance when his dad went to answering his work phone, it was going to happen soon. His dad kissed him goodbye on his cheek, repeating with Claudia and shouting that he’ll do the dishes when he get’s back to make up for leaving so soon.  
  
Stiles brightens up at that, it was his turn for dishes. Not that he’s going to tell his dad.  
  
Going to sleep that night with shivers wracking his lanky form, he wished, he almost believed that everything was going to going to be okay.  
  
He didn’t think it was going to lead up to this. Gerard unleashing the beasts he calls _hunters_. 

* * *

_-Angst Sorrow Desperation-_

* * *

Stiles woke up to searing white hot pain. In his confused, sleep bleary state he tried to claw open his chest where the pain was at it’s strongest. His screaming alerted his mother, who was home while his dad was at the station. She was pale, skin glistening with sweat and tears were in her eyes too. “Stiles, everything is going to be okay. We just need to find who the hell is in so much pain, alright?” She whispered through gritted teeth. Times run out, now Stiles isn’t the only one experiencing this at this level. Stiles shivered and groaned but followed his mother. He’s almost experienced pain this bad and it was when his dad was shot at a stake out.  
  
The music teacher felt like a faint, nagging crick in his neck. His dad felt like a hole was forming on his shoulder, some blood spilled from Stiles scratching at it. Now it felt like his skin was falling off minutely like it was healing as fast as it burned. Rinse and repeat. His lungs felt like they were filling with smoke and cleansing themselves periodically from his burning and not burning skin.  
  
This was _torture_.  
  
Before they left, Stiles jammed his hiking boots on and changed into pants. His mom changed into matching boots. He called his dad and told him to track his and Claudia’s phone. That they’re leaving to find whatever wasn’t right because it was happening right now. As Stiles said this he realized, that it had to be hurting so much was because multiple people were feeling the same way.  
  
His mom told him when he was five about how someday he’s going to be experiencing all kinds of emotions when he’s older. That they’re something special that needs to be kept a secret, there’s not many of them left. They all go insane after a while. Can’t handle it. If they don’t, the bad people will come along. Stiles decided he was old enough and researched enough to know he isn’t normal, and there are other things out there not normal with him before she said anything. Mom never lets him near the Argent’s that live in Beacon Hills, and whenever the old king comes to town, he’s not allowed to leave the house without his mom or dad.  
  
The Hales always stay close to them during those times. They knew what they were. Stiles knows they are something too, Cora doesn’t keep her eyes from flashing like a light bulb as much as she should. And Derek nuzzles a little too much for it to be human. He's researching what he can over the years and took into account the fact they live in the middle of the preserve, he’s going to say a shapeshifter. Maybe werewolf what with him not allowed out at night during full moons. _If that isn’t a dead giveaway or ring any alarm bells he doesn’t know what will_ .  
  
Talia was one that always came close during those times. Peter was there too and tracked everything that came close to him and his mom. But mostly him. Which, alarm bells. It was weird and unnerving, but nice. Peter is his favorite. Next to Derek, who acts like an asshole because he’s adult and shouldn’t be hanging out with little high school freshmen but always makes time for Stiles, even comes to the high school to eat lunch with him and Cora and Scott sometimes, and get’s him his favorite foods and treats when he’s having a bad day from the spew of emotions. Maybe they’re tied.  
  
He followed his mom into the woods, where the - _Angst Sorrow Desperation_ \- was. They were moving in evasive maneuvers. The woods were silent on their arrival. Stiles’ constant offerings and magic slips into the ground granted him safe travel, along with people of his choosing. The steps they made fell on deaf ears, moving too fast for the untrained eye to see. Claudia’s being swallowed up as thanks from the forest for going to help the people in danger. Leaves and sticks moved out of Stiles’ way, whirling around and away in a tiny tornado’s dance.  
  
Stiles had to pause a few times, breaths a pant trying to work past the blinding emotions that kept passing to him. Claudia wasn’t like Stiles, she didn’t have magic of her own. Only what her empathy can form to help her. She wasn’t connected to nature and its residents. She couldn’t hear the forest cry in outrage at what’s happened. When they started moving again he felt the beginnings of sick - _Satisfaction Pleasure Contempt_ \- circling the others.  
  
The phone was clutched in one hand, the other clutched in Claudia’s. Stiles sucked in a breath, sped up with his coltish limbs tripping him up, before his mom when he realized they were headed towards the Hale house. Smoke was slithering its way through the woods and to the starlit sky like tendrils seeking out prey for slaughter.  
  
The screams of the damned made tears trickle down his already wet, mole scattered face. He brought the phone up to his ear absently thumbing off the mute button. They muted themselves to not cause a distraction. “Daddy?” The breathless, childish word wasn’t fully out before Noah's voice came in and whispered him reassurances. “Dad, it’s the Hales’. The house is on _fire_ . They need help there’s so much pain. Dad-”  
  
“Okay, son. We’ve been following you so we’ll get there first before the fire department.” Noah spoke softly to his son. Stiles heard police sirens and yelling in the background. If he strained himself and used the wind in the forest to carry out the sound, he could hear the sirens in the preserve. His breath hitched over his reply when Claudia put her hand on his mouth. Noah spoke louder in alarm at his gasp.  
  
Claudia swiped the phone and said crisply, “It’s the Argent’s men. Get the damn force and then some down here _now_ , Noah.” and hung up. Stiles wants to achieve that level of badassness when he’s older and not being driven insane. Claudia pulled him into the shadows before anyone could see them. Tree branches lowered and brought leaves to cover their shadows. Stiles felt the bile rise in his throat when he heard people laughing and taunting at the Hales the closer he got. 

* * *

- _Angst Sorrow Desperation-_

* * *

They sat behind bushes that grew larger and fuller the closer Stiles got. Claudia stared at him with a thin mouth until he shrug and rubbed at the nape of his neck sheepishly. Peeking through they saw four people, three males, one female, carrying guns, canisters, and bags full of powder, walking in circles around the house leaving trails in their wake. Stiles didn’t notice that the powder was slithering their way to him, too entranced by the screams and emotions. Claudia sucked in a breath and eyed the mountain ash gliding towards the bush. She turned Stiles towards her with a firm grip on his shoulders. “Stiles, you need to get the ash away from the house and break the circle.”  
  
Stiles furrowed his brows. “Ash? You mean the sparkly shit? And now that I’m looking closer at it, it looks like the stuff in Deaton’s clinic. Care to explain that? Wait- how do I do that?” She turned his head where the ash is at his feet, quivering and waiting for his command, but still connected as a whole. She spoke over his oncoming nervous rambling and flailing. “Stiles, I know this isn’t anything I prepared you for. I honestly wouldn’t have been able to teach you anything about this, maybe Deaton, the little weasel.” She paused for a second, a snarl curling her lips before visibly shaking herself out of it. “Honey, you just need to believe that you can control the ash and think of what you want it to do. You’re not just an empath, Stiles. You’re more than that.” She placed her hand on his chest. Right, where the burning heat was slithering around. “Believe you can save the Hales, Stiles. You’re their only hope.”  
  
“But Mom-” Stiles started. His eyes were flickering around them frantically. He was panting his way along another wave of - _Angst Sorrow Desperation_ \- when the people started splashing oil into the basement windows. _He wasn’t prepared for this_ ! _How was he supposed to do this_ ? “Okay first off this isn’t Spongebob. Second, this sounds like a crappy parody of Star Wars. I am not Obi-Wan Kanobi.”  
  
Claudia snorted. “Believe, Stiles. Think of what you want the ash to do, move this way or that, become solid and trip a hunter into the fire. Create a wall to protect yourself, you just have to believe you can do it, sweetheart.” She kissed his forehead and whispered, “I need to distract them.” onto it. Her lips lifted in a snarl momentarily. Claudia kissed his forehead again before pushing him towards the Hale house and vanishing towards the bad people. Her eyes took on a colorless hue.  
  
Stiles really hopes he doesn’t look like that when he’s in full power mode. That looked like _Supernatural_ ’s Lilith. Stiles shudder with an appropriate ‘ _ugh_ ’.  
  
Stiles huffed. Shook out as many jitters he can. And crept his way towards the house, silently praying his dad will get here in time, and shaking in his boots. He doesn’t understand what his mom means by believing in himself, he’s supposed to be a teenager low self-esteem. But he leads and breaks the ash from around the house without anyone’s knowledge. He caught his mom plucking someone off like they were a grape on a vine and drag them into the woods without a sound. Claudia had looked at him and nodded towards the house.  
  
Right. Focus. How is a hyperactive teenager supposed to focus?  
  
He snuck around the house where he saw bars leading to the basement and jumped when hands reached out like a C rated horror movie. He nearly bit his tongue off holding in his scream. Blood filled his mouth. Oh god. He’s not ready for this. He didn’t know he reached the bars until a hand grasped his pant leg and brought him down. He stared into the fevered eyes of Talia Hale, skin cracking and healing, rinse and repeat. She spluttered when she saw him. “ _Stiles_ ! Wha- What are you doing here? Get out of here!”  
  
A stampede of footsteps came from behind her before several pairs of eyes were peeking at him. He recognized Daniel, Peter, Cora, Stiles felt a moment of clarity when he saw Cora, all the emotions dimmed and took a back seat, Cora was in twelfth grade, that’s who he was predicting. The others looked at him while patting their clothes attempting to ride the fire from their body. Peter shoved his way to the front, his shirt was in burnt stripes and hanging off one shoulder. “Get out of here, now. Where’s Claudia or Noah, Stiles?” His eyes scanned his body, vibrant blue overtaking cobalt.  
  
Stiles opened his mouth to tell him help was on the way. That he did have some self-preservation, thank you very much. “Stiles,” Talia spoke slowly, eyes trained on something behind him and cutting him off, “What are you doing to the ash?” Canting his head he turned around he saw the mountain ash hovering around him like a black cloak, cloaking him from any eyes. 

* * *

- _Angst Hope Desperation-_

* * *

Stiles said with a scrunched nose, “I’m just doin’ what Mom said to do, believe.” Stiles waggled his fingers. He perked up when he heard the sirens come closer and the frantic shouting of the hunters. “Dad’s almost here, do you need help. I know the ash isn’t good for you, why else would you be stuck in a burning house?” The Hales had to smile, albeit ruefully, at that. “Did ya try to push open the door? ’m keeping the ash from forming a circle around the house.”  
  
Daniel, Talia’s husband, and Mason, Talia’s oldest son, left his sight. He leaned closer to the bars, trying to peek into the room. The flames were dancing all around like fireflies, only a lot more dangerous. That brings to question, is there actual flies that light on fire? Like a little phoenix. Talia pushed him away from the bars before he could get burned. Stiles went with her hands noticing the way she avoided them and couldn’t move far through them without shaking, almost like she couldn’t touch them or breach past them. Mountain ash. Stiles was too busy staring at the bars as an idea formed in his head to see the way Talia was growing unsteady on her feet. Daniel and Mason coming back with livid expression and dropping shoulder cemented his idea.  
  
Stiles blocked out all the noises to pay attention to the emotions, - _Angst Dwindling-Hope Desperation_ \- letting them consume him. Okay, he can do this. A fifteen-year-old so can break through the solid ash bars, right? He’s controlling the powder mountain ash, so why not be able to control the solid version?  
  
Stiles moved onto his knees with fingers outstretched. Believe, all he has to do is believe. He closed his eyes and thought with the pulsing of emotions that he can save the Hales. His thin fingers brushed against the bars and put as much intent behind ever silent belief he has that he can break or detach these bars. The ash at his back shivered and lowered as if it were a tiger about to leap. It slid along his back and down his arms, still protecting his back from any attacks until it layered over his fingers and hovered like smoke. The reflecting glitter from the fire almost distracted him.  
  
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.  
  
Believe. Intent.  
  
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.  
  
His eyes gleamed iridescently, skin glittered like stars and the bars shattered as quiet as his arrival had been with the brush of his fingertips. The fire danced in his scaly eyes and the onlookers of it took a step back and held their breath. He got to his feet in a trance and continued on to the other windows, making his way all around the house. Each shattered and was as quiet as his footsteps. Like a ghost wrecking playful havoc to it’s haunting.  
  
“ _Stiles_!”  
  
Stiles looked up, eyes still an unearthly glow and stopped the arrow before it came within three feet of his face. Silence rang out until faint ringing could be heard in everyone’s ears as ashy tendrils released the arrow and let it fall at Stiles’ feet. Ferocious growls sounded Stiles as he knelt to pick up the arrow. His fingers nicked the blade without feeling the slice. He watched the blood drip down, still immersed in the emotions that were like a tidal wave in his chest. Arms wrapping around him and a burnt shirt blocking the world slowly brought Stiles out of his trance. Stiles pushed and squirmed with his heart rabbiting in fear until he heard a timber voice coo into his ear.  
  
“It’s alright. It’s just me.” A pause. “Thank you, Stiles. You clever little boy.”  
  
He sagged into Peter, his legs giving out seconds after. After that, multiple pairs of arms were hugging him. Murmurs of thanks cloaked him like his babcia’s blanket. Stiles felt the heat clinging to all of them and the smell of fire ash filled his upturned nose.  
  
“Kate. How nice it is to see you’re doing well.” Talia spoke in a decisively calm but firm tone. She stood with her family and Stiles at her back and Claudia, clothes and body bloodied with light eyes, at her side. Talia’s clothes were hanging off in threads but she’s never looked as regal or as vicious as she does now after surviving her house being set on fire around her and family almost dying at her feet.  
  
The police force is on the other side of Kate and her accomplices. Stiles pushed his way out of the group hug and breathed out in relief to see his mom okay, he felt bad for temporarily forgetting her. But feeling Peter squeeze him close and scenting, that’s what they were doing scenting, he calmed him down. Seems like he and his mom weren’t the only ones able to feel emotions. That explains why Cora would have broken Jackson’s nose when he made fun of Stiles for almost losing his mom. He didn’t say anything to her, she already knew.  
  
“Talia.” Kate sneered, teeth bared in a wolfish snarl. How fitting. Her arms were cuffed behind her back and on her knees. Three guys were next to her. Two were laying on the ground with a puddle of wet earth around them. Stiles is gonna take an educated guess at saying that’s why his mom is currently covered in blood. His science teacher would be so proud of him for using science outside the classroom.  
  
“I thought you were leaving this town behind,” Talia spoke with a raised brow. Kate opened her mouth, probably to sneer and taunt, how original not like every villain does that or anything for a car, Stiles thinks a Camaro, to swerve in and nearly run some police officers down. He thinks it’s Laura. She’s the only Hale that drives like that.  
  
It was Laura. Clenched teeth and huffing breath, eyes the calm before the storm. And Derek. A sobbing, shaking Derek that was huddled into himself in his leather jacket uniform.  
  
Kate smiled slow and sadistic. “Derek,” She cooed. At her tone, the adults straightened their backs and readied their weapons. Be it gun or claws. Which, yeah, werewolves. “I see I’m not the only person that can make you crack under pressure.” She continued, a gleam overcasting her hazel eyes.  
  
Stiles sharp pinpricks break on his arms from Peter’s nails. He hissed and jerked in his grip until Peter let him go. Stiles heard barely suppressed growls from behind and next to him. Too quiet for the police to hear them, but loud enough for Talia to hear if the look over her shoulder was anything to go by. 

* * *

- _Rage Murderous Defend-_

* * *

“And why would my son crack under pressure from you, Katherine?” A shiver shook Stiles to his core at Talia’s question. He looked around. Everyone had the same scrunched up face of disgust at Kate and pitying looks from the officers at Derek. His family only sent neutral, assessing looks to Derek. Who kept his head down and hugged himself tighter at the stares he was getting.  
  
He felt woozy on his feet, being surrounded by the same type of emotion, especially negative, always takes a toll on him. He stumbled to his mother’s side with Peter shadowing his moves. Laura edged her way to her mother’s side. Derek quivered his way to being behind Stiles and around his family.  
  
“Derek loves to be cherished, practically begs for it. Killing your first love really can fuck with a person’s psyche.”Kate wheedled while staring right into Talia’s eyes. Noah stepped in when Talia’s eyes took on a flash of red and Derek choked out a whimper. The family as one moved to touch and reassure Derek. They stopped when Derek panicked and back away. Daniel and the others poised to attack. “I’m surprised nobody came for me. I mean _surely_ you’d know who Derek was seeing right?” Her head cocked to the side. “Or did you order them not to pry because Derek seemed happy for once?” She cackled. “Oh, you couldn’t have been more wrong. I did enjoy breaking him.”  
  
“Kate Argent and accomplices,” He looked at the bloody bodies, “or accomplice. Nice job hun. You are under arrest for attempted arson and many other things.” He and Tara picked them off the ground. Kate struggled and kicked and screamed about how she was doing the right thing. That these things, these _animals_ needed to be put down. That they needed to be put down before they could make more. By then the fire trucks and paramedics arrived. They medics bagged up the bodies without a word or glance in Claudia’s direction and the fire was slowly flushed out. He turned and collapsed into Peter’s side. 

* * *

_-Relief Protect Rage-_

* * *

A scream cut through the fog that was taking the adrenaline from his body. He turned and saw his life flash before his eyes when he was met with Kate’s furious gaze and outstretched hands. “It’s all your fault you little monster!” A furious roar deafened Stiles’ ears as he was pushed to the ground. He looked up and saw Peter launch himself at Kate and went to town on ripping her apart. Talia and Daniel were there seconds after and yanked and pulled, trying to get him off. Claudia was pulling Stiles up and checking him over. Mouth moving in a Stiles-like ramble that he heard none of. Too entranced in Peter’s movements.  
  
The way her plunged his claws into her stomach and torn. Squeezed her insides and smiled around fangs at her cries. He knew he wasn’t the only reason Peter snapped. He was trapped in a house she lit on fire. With his whole family trapped inside and burning alongside him. Hearing the implied news and seeing Derek spoke volumes as to who Derek was sneaking out for.  
  
He tried to step forward when Talia and Daniel gave up. The police officers watched but didn’t intervene. The medics took out another body bag and leaned against the car without a care in the world waiting for Peter to be done. Firefighters continued to the house, chatting amongst themselves when they were confirmed everyone made it out. His mom let him go. He didn’t see it, but she smiled a watery smile and his dad watched him with one hand on her shoulder. The other on his holstered gun.  
  
Kneeling by Peter’s side he watched for a few moments. He eased a hand on Peter’s arm, raised and about to strike, and said nothing. Peter heard what he couldn’t say. He always does. He eases back onto his heels with a viscera splattered, wheezing, barely alive Kate under him. She spits and chokes on bloody words. Peter clambers to his feet and leads Stiles away for the medics to deal with Kate.  
  
Stiles and his mom stood with the Hales as they were questioned and getting statements from his dad. They’re being left out to avoid the whole supernatural is a real thing. Derek was sitting on the trunk of Laura’s car. Trails of tears on his face and shaking in his dad’s Sheriff uniform jacket. Which how is that comfortable if he has a jacket on already? He grunted his way onto the trunk and settled nicely next to him.  
  
Stiles gazed at the stars, well, what stars he could see through the smoke and ash. God. He’s fifteen and he just helped a family from burning to death. With magic and emotions. And sat next to someone being guttered. God, he needs to talk to Scott. At least someone won’t question his actions _too_ much.  
  
“I just... saved a whole family from burning to death,” Stiles spoke with haunting emptiness. “And you just witnessed, and possibly felt your family about to die, which when are you guys gonna tell me what you are? I’m guessing like a shape-shifter or werewolf but come on it’s not fair for you to know me and I can’t know you. That’s like knowing who Batman is and not telling the Joker. Maybe.” Derek actually startled, a jerking motion in his arms. He looked at Stiles. His eyes were red and blood was crusted on his mouth from biting his lip. Hair astray gleaming with hair gel. Stiles opened his arms, unsure if Derek wanted to be comforted after that Kate-sized bomb was dropped. Derek smiled one of the softest smiles to perhaps ever grace a twenty-year-old face and pulled Stiles to his side and held him close.  
  
They’re silent for awhile. Breathing and watching everyone clean up the mess and heal up. Stiles is going bug the crap out of his parents for the way nobody, not the police officers, not the firefighters, not even the medics questioned the way Peter carved Kate’s insides out. Stiles gagged and shivered at the memory of Kate barely hanging on to life. These upcoming nightmares are going to be a _blast_ .  
  
“Thanks, Stiles. For everything.” Derek whispered. His breath ghosted Stiles’ ear.  
  
He shivered. “You’re all my family, ‘course I’ll save you,” Stiles whispered back.  
  
Stiles wonders what’s going to happen now that Gerard’s daughter may have been murdered and the Hales have conquered. He looks at Derek. Eyes closed and seem to be breathing easier now that someone is there for him. He looks at Peter. He came to stand on Stiles’ other side watching everyone and everything come close to them. And knows he isn’t going to be alone when the shit hits the fan.  
  
He looks to the stars again. He grins and muses to himself, what if they were the ones to end everything Gerard sent their way?

**Author's Note:**

> I am the only one to Beta this so let me know if there are any mistakes. Please let me know what you think. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
